Paradise
by autobotgirl12328
Summary: Cybertron is a bustling Utopia, with very little eventful happenings. The last moment of true excitement was the arrest of known activist Megatronus, who was sentenced to life imprisoned due to threatening the High Council. The world is normal...or is it? Orion Pax feels that something is wrong in this perfect world and goes searching for the truth. Will he find his destiny?
1. I

Transformers: Paradise

I

The day started bright, with rising of lights and activation of different systems. Bots were rushing to and from work, creating a network of noises that echoed across the city. Not a single problem occurred, except a single traffic stop just outside the Council Building. Other than this one inconvenience, everything was working perfectly. Iacon was something to behold, when everything was working in unison.

Orion woke up later than usual, which made him slightly concerned, but he brushed it off, getting ready to go to work. He lived in a single apartment complex within the inner city of Iacon. His work, located almost directly across the way from him, was the official Iacon record library. He'd worked there a while, a good portion of his rather uneventful life. Orion sighed, looking out the window.

"My completely uneventful life," he mumbled, looking out at the city. "If only something would happen?"

Another headache struck him. It was becoming more common lately for him to get this pain in the back of his processor, faintly connected to the stronger twitch in his spark chamber. The doctors, many of which dismissed Orion upon arrival, told him it was nothing and that it would pass with time. Nonetheless, Orion hated the tapping pain the back of his head, like the feeling he was forgetting something important. He sighed again, leaving the window's ledge.

Orion arrived at work, waved to the desk clerk, and entered the main library. His job was simple, organization of ancient artifacts and the data pads which held important information from or for the council. It wasn't the most glamorized job, especially in Iacon, but it was something that paid well and allowed Orion a lot of time to think to himself.

"Orion, new stuff!" called the desk clerk.

Orion sighed, but wandered back out, taking the box from the main desk. It was marked with an official seal, meaning it was still in use by the council. Orion thought quickly as he moved, placing the box where it belonged on a row of shelves. He had a moment of temptation to open the box and see what it contained but held strong and left the box alone. He collapsed onto his chair, which had a tendency to move depending on when and where he felt like resting from work.

"What am I doing with my life?" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's got to be something I'm missing."

The headache was getting worse, which typically either led to two things. He would either pass out, which wasn't very common, or the headache would vanish completely. Shutting his optics, waiting for the defining moment, Orion groaned. He needed to find a better solution to this than waiting it out. There had to be a reason to his pain. Groaning, he opened his optics slowly, feeling the throbbing pain on his processor.

"What the!" he gasped, jumping to his feet.

The world around him had changed into a smoldering pile of destruction. The walls had been blown to bits, leaving the ground a burning piece of metal. The shelves, once containing the history of Cybertron, were practically completely gone, leaving nothing but a burnt black slab. Smoke rose from the destruction, clouding the sky, leaving it a red tint. Orion could hardly think, stumbling back. He felt his chair behind him, holding onto it tightly. Impossible. How could this have happened so suddenly without a sound.

"Everything's gone…" he whimpered.

He closed his optics, feeling the pounding of his headache slowly mot away. Opening his optics again, the world had returned to normal. Startled, Orion double checked all the shelves, patted the walls and eyed the ceiling.

"That couldn't have been just some…dream? Some hallucination?" he gasped. "It felt real…"

He placed a hand on his chest. Why would anything like that happen in his normal life? He slumped back into his chair, taking in a deep breath. Normal.


	2. II

II

Orion thought about the last exciting thing that happened to him, on his way to the Iacon Prison House. He grinned at the thought of how it felt to standing beside his old friend Megatronus. Empowered, strong willed, connected, righteous, he felt like he could do anything, change the world. Megatronus had a view of the world that Orion hadn't considered. That this world wasn't right. It was corrupt, broken, in need of repair. Megatronus said he knew how to fix it. Orion was willing to walk with him.

He remembered walking into the High Council room, looking up at the towering councilmen. They seemed larger than life, beyond reality. They looked down upon Orion and Megatronus with judging optics, mumbling between themselves. He was frightened, stepping back, ready to run, when Megatronus marched forward. He accused them of being corrupt, crushing the spirit and life of the people of Cybertron. They laughed heartily at the end of Megatronus' speech, turning to each other with huge grins. Orion wanted to step forward, to say how he disagreed with Megatronus view of change, but suddenly one of the councilmen rose from his seat.

"How dare you threaten us and our purpose! We are hear to support Cybertronian, improve life, and continue forward!" shouted the councilman, pointing to Megatronus. "Guards! Seize this bot and his friend!"

The guard took hold of Orion and Megatronus. To Orion, it felt like his spark stopped. He could hardly move. His optics widened as he slowly turned to Megatronus. The larger bot snarled, glaring at the councilmen. His optics widened too, quickly turning to Orion. Megatronus shook his head, turning back to the councilmen.

"This bot is not with me!" he shouted. "He thought I was her to talk about the artifact history from the Iacon Hall of records! Orion had nothing to do with this…threat."

The councilmen conversed among themselves. Eventually, one stood up, waving to the guard to release Orion, shoving him to the ground. They continued to drag Megatronus as Orion slowly got back to his feet. Orion sighed, lifting his head toward the council. He wanted to speak but they were already dismissing, wandering away. It was too late. He turned around slowly, watching the doors slam behind Megatronus. Orion stood alone in the council hall, staring up at the ceiling.

"How could this have happened?" he whispered.

Orion shook his head, freeing himself from the memory. While that was last news worthy event on Cybertron for a while, Orion had always wondered what would've happened if he had stood up tot he council or if he'd stood beside Megatronus as he got arrested. Perhaps the sentence would've been less if he had. Regardless, Orion made a habit of visiting Megatronus when he had a chance, which was only once a month.

The Iacon Prison House was rather large, even though Iacon and its Council applauded the fact that they had zero crime. Orion wasn't sure how accurate that actual was. Upon entering, they searched you for weapons, deactivated your T-Cog momentarily, and then allowed you to enter a special room where a glass wall separates you from the inmate. Orion took his seat, waiting for Megatronus to get in, which often took a while since Megatronus was a rather rambunctious individual.

"Orion…" Megatronus grinned upon entering.

"Hello, Megatronus," sighed Orion. "As always I'm sorry…"

"You need to stop beating yourself up about this, Orion," assured Megatronus. "It's not that important anyway."

"Anything new?" grinned Orion.

"They're still trying to 'teach' me," shrugged Megatronus. "I'm learning just how screwed up this world is."

"Screwed up?" repeated Orion. "Everything's normal and boring."

"I envy your innocence," grinned Megatronus, rolling his optics. "This world isn't as peaceful as you think."

Orion saw the guards behind Megatronus step forward, as if ready to silence Megatronus before he said something he shouldn't. Megatronus spotted Orion's gaze and shrugged lightly.

"But what do I know," he chuckled. "I'm pretty insane anyway."

The guards stepped back.

"How's work?" Megatronus mumbled.

"Slow, boring, just like everything," Orion sighed, resting his head on one hand.

He perked, lifting his head, thinking back to the hallucination. The destroyed world. Orion groaned, leaning back. Megatronus grinned, perking and leaning forward.

"So…?" he purred.

"It's nothing. Just my headache again," Orion nodded.

"You need to find a doctor that will actually fix that," snapped Megatronus.

"I've been to doctors. They say there's nothing there. Nothing is wrong with me," argued Orion.

"You're raising your voice," commented Megatronus, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," panted Orion. "I'm fine."

"Are you?"

Orion groaned, turning away. Nothing. It was nothing, right? He felt his head pounding again as if right on cue. It was growing rapidly, forcing Orion to shut his optics again. Not again, he thought. Please not again. He begged his headache not to hallucinate again. It was frightening once, a second time would just force his hand. He would have to tell someone how insane he feels. Opening his optics slowly, he worried about what he would see.

"Oh no…" he groaned, shutting his optics again.

He had seen destruction again, though the flames from before were long gone, leaving the remains of a destroyed building. Megatronus was there, standing over Orion with red optics and clawed fingers dripping with Energon. IT was horrifying. Orion gulped, grinning lightly for Megatronus who was no doubt worrying about Orion.

"I need to go…back to work," stuttered Orion, slowly getting to his feet.

"Orion, tell me what's wrong," begged Megatronus.

"I'm fine," assured Orion, opening his optics again slowly. "I'll go the doctors, okay. If that'll make you happy."

"It would. I'm worried about you, little guy," grinned Megatronus. "If you see Soundwave, tell him not come today."

"Will do," nodded Orion, leaving.

What was going on?


	3. III

III

Orion wasn't fond of doctors. After the long process of meeting up with over fifty, he just was feeling more and more accepting of the fact that he was never going to get better. The headaches weren't even the worst part now that he was used to the pain, it was the passing out or these hallucination that made the illness something troubling. The last several doctors he had seen told him he was fine, nothing wrong. This was the last doctor within Iacon's city limits that he could afford. This was his last chance.

With a sigh, he entered the facility. The doctor, by the name of First Aid if Orion remembered correctly, was suggested by the guard at Megatronus' prison who had overheard the conversation. Upon entering, Orion noticed the several medical degrees listed around the room along with famous bots he had helped. It didn't matter. Orion was sure he couldn't be helped. The waiting room was empty though, making Orion's spark jump and twitch. He stepped slowly up to the counter, tapping on the window.

The bot that wandered up was probably slightly older than Orion, colored white and red, with shimmering blue optics. He slid the window open, offering a smile. Orion couldn't help but smile in return. This seemed like an oddly familiar bot, though Orion could not figure out from where.

"Can I help you?" offered the bot.

"I'd like to make an appointment," sighed Orion.

"Is everything alright?" the bot perked.

"Just some headaches that have been growing more frequent," Orion shrugged.

"I'm afraid First Aid is out. He'll be out for the next few weeks," the bot mumbled. "I can give you some numbers of other medics, if this is serious."

"No thanks. I've seen them all already," grinned Orion. "I've seen every medic in Iacon. This was my last stop."

The bot perked slightly, almost taken back. He turned, looking within the office for something. Orion waited patiently. The bot ducked down, disappearing from view and returned with a data pad, flicking through the pages.

"How long have these processor aches been going?" the bot purred. He paused, perking. Quickly, he turned to Orion saying, "My name's Ratchet by the way."

"Orion," he replied. "It's been a while. A few months to say the least."

"Months?" whispered Ratchet, tapping on the data pad. "And the other doctors have said…"

"I'm fine," nodded Orion. "Nothing is wrong with me."

"But you keep getting these pains?" commented Ratchet, looking up. "Something has to be causing it."

"I'm pretty much done caring," Orion shrugged.

"Why did you come in now? Something change?" perked Ratchet, leaning in the window.

"Oh, it's nothing. I can come back when First Aid is in," sighed Orion.

"I wish I could," groaned Ratchet. "I'm still a medical student."

"Oh?" grinned Orion. He never passed up a chance to talk to something.

"I'm almost done but getting a job in Iacon seems impossible. Like you said, there's tons of places in the city," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "I could do some scans, if you want."

"Scans?" perked Orion.

"Processor scans. They're real simple," offered Ratchet.

"I've had those," sighed Orion.

"It couldn't hurt to have one more," grinned Ratchet. "I'll let you in."

Orion waited patiently as Ratchet rounded the office space and opened the door. He followed the medical student into the back where a large berth sat. Orion sat, waiting again as Ratchet left the room. As if on cue, his headache began sizzling in the back of his processor. By the time Ratchet had returned, it was burning so much Orion had to rest his head in one hand. Ratchet set down a data pad, glancing over at Orion.

"Headache?" questioned Ratchet.

"It's nothing," assured Orion, looking up lightly.

"Perfect time for the scan though," grinned Ratchet, picking up one of the medical scanners. "I don't have one installed yet."

"That's fine," nodded Orion.

Ratchet lifted the scanner, hovering it over Orion, moving it up and down. He viewed the scanner carefully, optics narrowed as he read the results. Eventually the scanner beeped, signaling its completion. Orion smiled lightly as Ratchet frowned, stepping over to the data pad. He could here the medic snarl, growl and pound as he pressed the buttons on the pad.

"Find nothing?" chuckled Orion. The pain was growing.

"But its obvious you're in pain. There's no misplaces circuits, false signals, damaged wiring," grumbled Ratchet. "Scrap…it's something."

He sighed, turning back to Orion. He grinned lightly, readjusting the scanner. Orion perked, sitting up. Ratchet returned to Orion's side, rescanning him. This time, however, Ratchet moved the scanner from the head to the foot, continuously.

"What are you doing?" whispered Orion.

"Full body scan," explained Ratchet. "The pain is coming from somewhere."

Orion listened to the scanner beep, but not the signal that the results were done. For a moment, Orion forgot the pain in his processor. For a moment. Orion groaned, lowering his head quickly as the pain overtook him. He shut his optics, whimpering. Ratchet's voice grew faint. He was terrified to open his optics since every time beforehand had revealed a horribly destroyed world.

"Optimus!?"

Orion opened his optics slowly. That was a name, he knew it. Optimus was a familiar name but Orion couldn't figure out from where. Opening his optics, Orion looked wearily up the warlike world. Ratchet was kneeled down beside him, looking out with him. The medic, looking more worn by damage and age, turned slowly to Orion. He could see Ratchet's mouth move but the words were blurred, echoing.

"Optimus!"

Orion sighed, shutting his optics slowly. The call for Optimus faded, blurring into the call for Orion. Opening his optics again, Orion was back in the medical room, Ratchet shaking Orion by the shoulder. The medic looked dazed, shocked and frightened, stepping back. The scanner was on the ground, no doubt dropped when Ratchet realized Orion fell into his hallucination.

"Are you okay!?" gasped Ratchet, picking up the scanner.

"Fine…it's gone now," panted Orion, leaning back against the wall.

"Did you black out?" whimpered Ratchet.

Orion paused, looking away. "Yeah, sure."

"Be honest with me," urged Ratchet. "What happened?"

"Hallucinations," sighed Orion.

"Like?"

"The whole world…changes. It's destroyed, completely burned and decimated. Sometimes there's other people there but…" groaned Orion.

"People? Such as?" Ratchet commented, moving to the data pad.

"My friend…" shrugged Orion.

"Me?" questioned Ratchet.

"Yes," nodded Orion.

"What was I doing?"

"Just kneeling beside me…calling a name," Orion explained. "Optimus."

"Optimus?" repeated Ratchet. "I don't know it."

"Me either."

"Well this is interesting," grinned Ratchet, taking the data pad and leaning beside Orion.

"What?" perked Orion, leaning over and checking Ratchet's pad over his shoulder.

"There's a stray signal entering your system from an external source," instructed Ratchet. "Here's the catch, it isn't going to you central processor."

"Where's it going?" whimpered Orion.

"Your spark," Ratchet smirked.


	4. IV

IV

Orion groaned, looking around his house. The first bot coming to his apartment since Megatronus and Orion wasn't completely sure what to do. He put some of his take-home work away in the shelves but otherwise wasn't sure whether or not his apartment was presentable. Deep down, Orion felt that Ratchet wouldn't mind if the room was a mess or not. Soon enough, there was a knock on the door.

"Hello," greeted Orion, letting Ratchet in.

Ratchet scurried inside, a huge grin upon his lip. He sat on the couch, pulling out his various data pads and setting them on the table. Orion shut the door gently, taking a seat on the couch next to Ratchet. The medical student set a data pad on Orion's lap, which was labeled The Complete Cybertronian Medical Collection. Flipping through the pages, he couldn't make sense of anything though.

"So, you have theories?" mumbled Orion.

"Tons," grinned Ratchet. "None that are easy to identify."

"What do you think…"

"A signal connecting to your spark," hummed Ratchet, stroking his chin. "Something wants to connect but at this distance it can't."

"What would or could do that?" gasped Orion.

"Not sure. It could be something new, something old," nodded Ratchet, flipping through data pads. "You do work in the records room."

"I work with tons of old stuff," agreed Orion. "Narrowing that down might take a while."

"Well, only certain items can strike up a signal this powerful," instructed Ratchet, grabbing a data pad off the table. "You good at history?"

"Yes," smirked Orion, taking the data pad. "A strong signal?"

"Well, its stretching out from the hall of records to the medical facility and wherever you go," Ratchet nodded. "So the signal is strong and determined to stick with you."

"Right," sighed Orion. "But why do I see these hallucinations."

"Visions," corrected Ratchet. "I have a theory that they might be in fact visions from something, maybe the future, past or present possibilities. I have a scientist friend who would love in on this."

"Sounds like fun," nodded Orion, leaning back on the couch.

"Perceptor is nice and probably more suited for such ideas," suggested Ratchet. "He's out of town right now, visiting Kaon. Why anyone would wanna visit that pit is beyond me."

"What exactly are we doing, Ratchet?" question Orion. "I mean…are we coming up with a cause or a cure or…"

"Both, maybe," mumbled Ratchet, shrugging. "Finding a cause can lead to finding a cure."

"And you think that this is caused by some…artifact I might work with?"

"It is highly possible," nodded Ratchet.

"And if its not an artifact?" whispered Orion.

"I just wish I could see what you're seeing," hummed Ratchet, leaning back. "I feel like that would give me a good clear idea of what's going on."

"Isn't that impossible or illegal?" perked Orion.

Ratchet simply shrugged. "I've never heard of such a procedure so if it exists it's illegal."

Orion and Ratchet worked for a while before giving up completely. In the end, the entire room had data pads thrown about with Orion and Ratchet leaving the couch and finding comfortable positions in different areas. Ratchet hung upside-down on the couch, legs kicking the back and head resting on the ground. Orion sat on the ground, collecting the skewed data pads from around him. Ratchet groaned, pulling his feet down off the couch to sit up.

"Well this led us nowhere," he grumbled. "All these artifacts and we're not a step closer."

"Perhaps, the artifact just isn't listed in the history files," Orion offered.

"Everything I keep getting is prime, prime, Prime!" shouted Ratchet, throwing the data pad.

Orion caught it before it hit the ground. "Primes were once the head of the planet, chosen by Primus himself to lead the people to justice and light. Artifacts include the Forge of Solus Prime, the Star Saber…" Orion rambled, not really aware of what he was saying.

"But what made a prime a prime…?" whispered Ratchet, jumping to his feet. "The Matrix of Leadership! Passed from generation to generation until recently when no Prime was selected due to unworthy candidates!"

"What are you trying to say?" mumbled Orion, looking up wearily.

"I'm saying, my dear friend," cheered Ratchet, pulling Orion to his feet. "You may have been selected as new prime for Cybertron. These visions, headaches, signals could mean that this Matrix is reaching out. We have to find it!"

"I don't think I've seen that pass through my section," replied Orion. "I'd have to check the system."

"I'm coming too," grinned Ratchet. "This is a once in a lifetime event!"

"You don't really think I'm a Prime, do you?" gasped Orion.

"Wouldn't hurt to be hopeful," shrugged Ratchet. "Beside, you seem like a better candidate then anyone on the council right now."

"I wouldn't say that aloud," sighed Orion. "Last bot who spoke out against the council got arrested and imprisoned for life."

"Yes, the gladiator," purred Ratchet, stroking his chin. "He was right though, about the government being corrupt. I just wish more people were willing to stand up."

"I don't think numbers matter," whispered Orion, walking toward the door. "My shift is over for the day. I don't go to work again until tomorrow. We can meet up then."

"Great," Ratchet nodded, heading toward the door. "I'm gonna talk to some of my friends about this idea and get their opinions."

Orion opened the door for Ratchet. The medical student stepped out and immediately turned back around to face Orion.

"If you do have another episode, could you call?" Ratchet instructed. "I need to start a time table. Maybe these things are happening at certain times for a reason."

"I'll be sure to tell you," grinned Orion. "Thank you, Ratchet."

"No problem," smiled Ratchet, walking away. "To be completely honest, this is some of the most fun I've had in a while."

"Me too," whispered Orion, shutting the door.


	5. V

V

To Orion, this felt somehow wrong. Walking to work with Ratchet on his heels almost felt like they were sneaking into the National Energon Storage to steal a lifetime supply. This was just him going to work with a friend. It shouldn't be this stressful. Orion sighed deeply, entering the Hall of Records, making sure to hold the door open for Ratchet. The bot at the desk perked, seeing Orion shut the door gently behind Ratchet.

"Orion, who's this?" gasped the bot. "Unauthorized personel…"

"He's my…doctor," sighed Orion, placing one hand on the desk. "He's just here to monitor me for today."

"Are you sick, Orion?" mumbled the clerk.

"Just a little under the weather," shrugged Orion, stepping into the back.

Ratchet waited a moment until the clerk lowered his head and motioned Ratchet in. The medic chased after Orion, making sure to shut the door behind him. Turning back around, he stood in awe of the large shelves and storage containers. Orion sat at his desk, checking over the list he was given for today's shipment of artifacts.

"You work with all this…" gaped Ratchet.

"Yes, which doesn't make your job much easier, does it?" grumbled Orion, getting to his feet. "I ship tons of stuff to and from the High Council. The Matrix might not even be in here."

"Do you know where the Forge is or other Prime artifacts?" commented Ratchet.

"Row Omega, section Sigma, level 28," recited Orion.

"You're good at this," grinned Ratchet, reading the sign on the shelves and running off.

"You realize I do have to actually do my job too, right!" called Orion.

Orion sighed, rechecking the list he had been given. Most of the stuff today was weapons by the look of things. It worried him, because it wasn't just weapons coming in, there were some going out. He gulped, looking up to find the first artifact to get from the shelf. He could hear Ratchet even so often, commenting on the objects he had found, overall just getting distracted. At one point, they crossed paths, to which Ratchet asked where the Forge was again. Sending him off, Orion finished his work soon after.

"Ratchet?" mumbled Orion, coming up behind the medic. "Find anything?"

"The Forge, Star Saber, Spark extractor," he shivered, "Everything spooky and Prime related but no Matrix."

"Perhaps a member on the council has it," suggested Orion.

"That won't do us much good," grumbled Ratchet. "We needed that or at least it was a step."

"I'm not familiar with anyone on the council, Ratchet. How do we even ask?" whimpered Orion.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," sighed Ratchet. "Maybe I'll double check some of the nearby shelves."

"Orion!"

"That's the clerk, isn't it," hummed Ratchet. "You should probably check it out."

"It's probably just a late shipment," nodded Orion, walking off.

He stepped out of the main hall, entering the entrance lobby. The clerk stood with a forced smile upon his faceplate, motioning toward the bot in the doorway. He was tall, slender, colored in a dark purple and light grey. It was hard to tell expression through the mask, but as soon as Orion shut the door, the bot's optics shifted toward him.

"You Orion?" the bot hummed, holding out a hand.

"Yes," mumbled Orion, shaking the extended hand. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm with the Council," chuckled the bot. "You were…present when Megatronus was arrested, right?"

"Yes, sir," replied Orion. "Am I under arrest?"

"By no means. The Council was curious, though, about your connect with this Megatronus. We understand you've been visiting him and we just want to make sure you aren't carrying on his work."

"Megatronus was a agitator," answered Orion. "I just want to stay safe…"

"Good boy," nodded the Councilman, placing a hand on Orion's shoulder. "It's a shame when good bots follow the wrong bots. I think I speak for the whole Council when I say I would hate to lose an asset such as yourself."

Orion simply nodded.

"With that in mind, we ask that you stop communication with Megatronus."

"What?" gasped Orion. "But he's an old friend. An agitator he may be, but I can't just abandon him!"

The Councilman's optics narrowed. "You are truly a loyal sorts. Rare these days. Megatronus is undergoing…special treatment, courtesy of the Council. We hope to get him to see reason."

"I see," mumbled Orion, lowering his head.

"He'll get better, soon," promised the Councilman.

"Sir," whispered Orion, lifting his head slightly. "I've worked here a while…and I do enjoy stories of Cybertron history and I was just curious…Do we have the Matrix of Leadership in storage?"

The Councilman cringed, removing his hand from Orion's shoulder and turning away.

"No…it is with Primus," replied the Councilman. "When none was worth, Primus reclaimed his gift."

"I see," sighed Orion.

"Don't believe in those legends, Orion," instructed the Councilman. "Legends such as the Matrix granting light will only bring you false hope."

With that the Councilman left. Ratchet stepped out, coming up behind Orion. The clerk lowered his head again with a deep sigh. Orion turned to Ratchet.

"Nothing," the medic grumbled. "What'd I miss?"

"A Councilman visited. He told me…to stop visiting my friend," sighed Orion. "And that the Matrix isn't here. It was reclaimed by Primus."

"Great!" snapped Ratchet, throwing his hands behind his head. "There goes that plan!"

Orion felt the stinging pain of the headache. He groaned, feeling it bloom into an explosive amount of pain rather quickly. Without warn, in a blink of the optics, Orion's environment changed. He groaned, looking around him. Destruction, broken buildings. Ratchet wasn't beside him this time but he still heard the faintest voice of someone calling Optimus again.

"Who's there?" called Orion, thinking himself crazy enough to try.

A blue bot swung around the side of a building, waving in reply. A femme, she moved quickly down, heading his way. Orion stepped forward, walking toward her. She grinned at his approach.

"Optimus, we were worried!"

"I'm…" Orion gasped.

Suddenly there was a blinding light and swift tug. Orion felt his head hit the pavement, knocking him back into reality. Horns were blaring as he looked around. He was just outside the Hall of Records, or more accurately across the street from it. Traffic had slowed down, optics looking wearily over at him. Gently turning his head over, Orion noticed that Ratchet was beside him, holding onto Orion's side. By the look on Ratchet's face, Orion had done something new this time.

"Did you black out again!?" panted Ratchet.

"What happened?" gasped Orion, sitting up.

"We can add…sleeping walking to the list," sighed Ratchet, sitting up slowly. "We walked into traffic. Nearly got hit…"

"I did what?" mumbled Orion.

"What were you doing in the vision? Were you walking there?" questioned Ratchet.

"Walking…talking to someone," replied Orion.

"You had a conversation!" gasped Ratchet, leaning in. "With who? What about?"

"Someone was calling Optimus again. I called out to see who was there," sighed Orion. "I think you were right…"

"About?" perked Ratchet.

"Me being a Prime," Orion nodded. "They called me Optimus."

"A name change," whispered Ratchet. "Usually attributed to one becoming a Prime."

"So in this other world, I'm a Prime," mumbled Orion, shaking his head. "What is going on in that world?"


	6. VI

VI

"You remember how they look?"

"Yes."

"You better write then."

Ratchet got out of the seat, allowing Orion command of the computer. They both were a little on edge, scrapped up from the sleepwalking scare. Ratchet had timed it though, marking it down and sent word to his scientist friend to see if it coordinated with anything else on the planet. Now, they were in the Library of Iacon, searching for the mysterious bot that was part of Orion's vision.

"Seeing as they weren't standing before you and you hadn't met them before, its interesting," commented Ratchet. "I'm curious to see who this mystery bot is."

"I only got a good look at her for a second," sighed Orion, clicking send. "What if it doesn't match anyone?"

"We keep looking into the Matrix then," shrugged Ratchet. "To be honest, that's about as much fun as searching for a bot."

"We've got a match…" whispered Orion.

"Who?" perked Ratchet, leaning over Orion's shoulder.

"Arcee," mumbled Orion. "Deceased."

"How?" gasped Ratchet. "When? Recently?"

"According to the file, Arcee had lost a close friend. She was unable to find a stable relationship following it and suffered depression, low self esteem, etc. She…"

"Gave her own spark," finished Ratchet, stepping back. "She lived…in this other world. She was alive in the destruction. What was the difference?"

"I don't know," gulped Orion. "Ratchet, I don't like this…It was bad enough not knowing what these visions were…now I know the people are real and their lives are different."

"Some say that a single point in time can change countless lives," recited Ratchet. "Perhaps, an action you did or didn't do…"

Orion quickly stood up, startling Ratchet.

"I'm going home."

"But…" mumbled Ratchet.

"I need…I need time to think, Ratchet. All of this…it's too much…" whimpered Orion, rushing passed Ratchet.

Orion rushed home, slamming the door shut and collapsing onto his berth. So much to think about. All that was happening, was all this just some alternate timeline because he didn't speak up for Megatronus? Orion groaned, sitting up. No…it couldn't be his fault. The image of the cheerful Arcee running toward him flashed across his mind. Was he the reason she was dead now.

"No!" shouted Orion, pounding a fist against the berth. "It wasn't my fault! She took her own spark! I didn't even know her!"

The image flashed across his memory again. Her smile. He whimpered, pounding the berth again.

"Why me…why am I so important? I'm just some…some bot…nothing special…the world doesn't fall apart because I didn't…because I didn't say something…" sobbed Orion. "How many others die…that shouldn't have…"

A knock at the door was heard for a brief moment then stopped.

"It's not my fault," choked Orion, "I'm not a Prime! I'm not Optimus! I'm not special! I'm…I'm just crazy! This is crazy! I can't…"

Another knock. His head began to ache.

"Not again," whimpered Orion, pulling his knees to his chest. "I don't want to go back there…please! Primus, no! Make it stop…I don't want to see her…I don't want to see the destruction…I can't…

The knocks were growing louder. A muffled voice was barely heard.

"I can't!" shouted Orion.

The door was kicked in, allowing several armored bots to march in, guns raised. They tore Orion off the berth, throwing him to the ground. Orion opened his optics, feeling them grab him by the arms, but couldn't see the world. All he saw was the destroyed world, covered in fire and smoke. He could smell rotting corpses. He choked on the stench. He felt his body moving without direction, being led by the guards.

"Help!" cried Orion. "Please! Just make it stop!"

"Optimus!"

Orion whimpered, looking around the false world. A young bot came running toward him, painted yellow and black. Orion perked. So young. The faintest feeling in the back of his mind made him anxious. He began struggling. He could see other bots clamber over the hill of rubble, firing shots at the young bot. Orion snarled, pulling against the arms grasp.

"Run, kid!" called Orion, watching the yellow bot glance back. "Don't look back, just run!"

"Optimus, this is Bumblebee. Do you copy?"

The bot held a finger to his audio receptor, glancing behind at the approaching bots. Orion was almost free, reaching out toward the young bot. Just run thought Orion, don't die…please. The young bot - Bumblebee - turned slowly toward Orion, almost directly into his optics.

"I'm going to find you," promised Orion. "And keep you safe!"

Suddenly there a swift jab to the side of his head. Everything turned to black.


	7. VII

VII

Orion awoke to the sound of the Energon cuffs clicking on the bars beside him. Moving slightly, he felt them tug against his wrists. Feeling like he was dreaming, he lifted his head to look around. The guard scoffed, kicking Orion's heel. He moved his foot in. The guard walked off, slamming the gates closed behind him. Orion groaned, resting his head on the bars, allowing his optics to look around.

He was in a dark room, walls lined with bars to keep prisoners chained. A large pillar stood in the middle of the room, preventing Orion a good look at the opposite side of the room. He did manage to see the foot of another bot, which swiftly moved out of sight as Orion shifted slightly. He heard a bot chuckle, allowing his optics to wander to his right. A red armored bot, hands chained over his head, gave Orion a wink.

"What are you in for?" he commented.

"What…" whispered Orion, still getting rid of the sleepy feeling.

"He got hit in the head, Knockout. Leave him alone," grumbled the unseen bot on the other side of the pillar.

"Sorry," grinned the red bot, Knockout. "I bet you're a little dizzy."

"Where am I?" gasped Orion, looking around, tugging at his chain.

"Prison," remarked Knockout. "Well, a holding cell for those awaiting trail by the council."

"Prison? Trail?" pleaded Orion. "I didn't…I didn't do anything wrong…"

"They always say that," grumbled Knockout. "Though, I suppose not everybody. I'm guilty…I know that."

"Guilty?" whimpered Orion, looking over at Knockout.

"I may have…torn a bot's insides out," smirked Knockout. "He was…on my nerves or something like that."

"Didn't he attack your friend?" remarked the mystery bot.

"Shut up, Shockwave!" ordered Knockout, tugging at his chains. "He deserved it!"

Orion pulled his legs in closer, lifting himself closer to his chained hand. A sinking feel ached in his spark as he looked around. The walls seem to close in, darkness surrounding him. He gulped, shutting his optics, listening to the buzzing of the lights. Knockout chuckled lightly, relaxing.

"Don't worry, whatever your name is," mumbled Knockout. "You'll probably get out before any of us, assuming you are innocent."

"I was just…in my house…" whispered Orion.

The ironclad door swung open, slamming against the wall. Orion looked over. A large bot looked around, pointing toward the back wall. He stepped aside as two bots marched in a took him away. Orion caught a glimpse of him as he was dragged away. Purple, one optic, a destroyed servo. He glanced at Orion was he was dragged away. It made Orion uncomfortable. The door slammed shut behind them.

"Well…that was something," commented Knockout.

"What did…he do?" gulped Orion.

"Invented," shrugged Knockout. "Something called a Cortical Psychic Patch…"

"What does it do?" questioned Orion.

"Links two minds together," yawned Knockout. "Boring if you ask me."

"Links two minds…" perked Orion. "Interesting."

"If you get out before I do, can you pay my bail?" mumbled Knockout. "These chains are really putting a kink in my shoulder."

Orion looked at him questionably. The door opened again, the large bot returning. He had tall shoulder pieces, a stiff lip, and glimmering optics. He looked around, addressing his data pad once before glaring over at Orion. He moved over swiftly, unlocking Orion's cuff from the wall. Orion leapt to his feet.

"Orion Pax?" the bot asked.

"Yes, sir," whispered Orion. "Can I ask what's going on?"

The bot began tugging Orion by the wrists. The hall was bright, lined with white walls. He gulped, hearing the calls of others from the nearby cells, the clack of other footsteps and the echoes of conversations. The tall shouldered bot, turned his attention back to his data pad, mumbling to himself.

"Orion Pax, you are under arrest for conspiracy to overthrow the High Council, conversing with known criminals, forming unregistered parties against the High Council, falsifying medical reports, and attempting to destroying priceless Cybertronian History," recited the bot. "I am your holding officer, Ultra Magnus, is there any questions at this time?"

"I didn't do any of those things!" gasped Orion.

Ultra Magnus glanced behind him, raising an eyebrow at Orion. He sighed, rolling his optics as he opened another door. It opened into a small room with two chairs and one table between them. Ultra Magnus sat Orion down in one of the chairs, standing behind the other.

"You are saying that you didn't do any of these accused things?" Ultra Magnus commented.

"I didn't do anything wrong. Last thing I remember I was in my house, on my berth, having a panic attack, when I get hit in the head and wake up here!" argued Orion, voice slipping into worry. "I work at the Hall of Records, I wouldn't destroy any artifact, I would sort it! Overthrowing the High Council, that's ridiculous! Conversing with known criminals, who? Forming a party, who?"

"We have reason to believe these accounts. You regularly converse with known criminal, Megatronous. You are forming an illegal party with Ratchet, which leads to false medical reports, illegally bringing said party to the private workplace, and having him wander said place unmonitored," explained Ultra Magnus.

"Megatronous is an old friend. I only visit him to make sure he's okay. It's not like I'm planning anything!" Orion felt like shouting. He snarled, shutting his optics. "Ratchet didn't do anything…he just wanted to help…I'm the one…who screwed up."

"Ratchet is already in custody," Ultra Magnus added.

"He didn't do anything. Throw me in jail for life…just don't punish Ratchet," whimpered Orion. "All he wanted to do was help me with my crazy disillusions."

"Disillusions?" perked Ultra Magnus. "Are you saying you are not in control of your own actions?"

"I don't…" Orion instructed. "I haven't been well a while. Headaches, blackouts, panic attacks."

Ultra Magnus showed a split second of worry before turning away and turning his attention back to the data pad. Orion groaned, resting his head on the desk. Ratchet. He had dragged Ratchet into this. Was this what Megatronous felt like, when he convinced the council to not arrest Orion? He was doing the exact same thing now, Orion thought fondly. He was pushing for Ratchet's freedom, just as Megatronous pushed for Orion's. Everyone deserved that.

"How long have you lived in Iacon?" Ultra Magnus questioned.

"My whole life," answered Orion, voice muffled as he desk was pressed against the desk.

"Every left Iacon?"

"No."

"Do you have any education?"

"History."

Orion heard the door open, though he didn't lift his head to see who it was. There was a muffled conversation and then the door shut again. Ultra Magnus coughed lightly, tapping on the desk. Orion lifted his head, sitting up. Ultra Magnus set the data pad on the table.

"Your bail has been paid," Ultra Magnus nodded.

"By?" perked Orion.

"Ratchet," grumbled Ultra Magnus. "One of the Councilmen would like to talk to you though."

"Let me guess," snarled Orion, narrowing his optics.

Ultra Magnus stepped out as the familiar face of the Councilman stepped in. The door shut behind him. Orion groaned, leaning back. The Councilman took the seat across from Orion, linking his fingers together and leaning on the desk.

"Well, well," he hummed.

"You did this…didn't you?" hissed Orion. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know," chuckled the Councilman. "I'm teaching you a valuable lesson, Orion Pax. Don't be like you friend, Megatronous. Stop this foolish idea of the Matrix bringing light. Find a different medic. Do your job. Live the life that's been given to you."

"I don't think I got your name," commented Orion, leaning on the desk.

"Is that important?" snapped the Councilman.

Orion leaned back slightly. "Shouldn't it be public information?"

The Councilman stood up, sliding his chair back into place. "Just do as I instructed, Orion, or else."

"Sir," Orion hummed. He pushed himself into the best smile he could. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," he nodded, walking away.

Orion groaned, slamming his head against the desk again.


End file.
